


Flight 1705

by annabeeus



Category: Clone High
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, F/M, Meet-Cute, No-Clone Zone, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28804965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeeus/pseuds/annabeeus
Summary: While stuck in layover for her flight out to New York City on Christmas Eve, Joan meets Jack (John Kennedy, but no one calls him that except his mom) who's waiting for the same flight.
Relationships: Cleopatra/Abraham Lincoln (Clone High) (mentioned), JFK/Joan of Arc (Clone High)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Flight 1705

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! just wanted to do something short and fluffy. this is unbeta'd, so don't expect any grammar too great.

There was a man watching her at the back of Gate 54. He had a book unfolded in his lap but his fingers were just absentmindedly smoothing out the pages, eyes following as Joan sat down in the seat across from him with her coffee and a tiny bag of overpriced cookies. She met his eyes, but by the time she’d built up enough courage to he was already looking back down at the book, sculpted hands shaking slightly as he turned the page. 

Joan looked down at her coffee then, fishing out her phone from the deep pocket in the center of her sweatshirt. Texts were pouring in from Cleo and Abe both - loud, exclamatory ones asking her about her flight, about the horrible weather over New York City, about how worried they were for her flying through what was turning out to be a hurricane. Christmas was supposed to be all candles and good food and family. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, dreaming of the warm mountain of blankets in their living room and their shitty mini electric fireplace. Cleo was making her four-cheese mac, which was a terror on a lactose intolerant person such as Joan but also  _ delicious. _ And Abe would be still putting up Christmas lights despite it being that night, tripping over all the cords racing through their hole-in-the-wall apartment. 

She opened her eyes, feeling the man was looking at her again. Joan not-so subtly stared over at him. She caught his eyes, widening at Joan catching him in the act and then turning back to his book. Slowly, she tucked her phone away and rubbed at the bridge of her chilled nose.

“What book is that?” Joan asked softly, still cringing at how loud her voice rang out around the nearly empty airport holding area. He looked up, eyes wide like a scared deer at the sound of her voice, before fumbling to shut his book without losing his page.

“Uh,  _ Pride and Prejudice, _ ” He said with a smile. Joan’s eyes widened without meaning to - she could feel herself melting back into her seat at the expression on his face. “I’m, er, a big fan of Jane Austen.”

“Me too,” Jane managed, mushing her mouth into a somewhat plausible smile. Silence then reigned between them again, the man flipping back open his book and letting out a little hum. She signed and opened her bag of cookies as silently as one could manage - the ripping plastic made her cringe a little since it felt like the only sound in the airport. Another text came in from Cleo -  _ delayed for how long????? _

“Where are you, uh, headed?” The man asked her then, Joan whipping up and nearly spilling the cookies all over the counter. “Sorry, that’s an, ur, creepy question.”

“No, it’s fine,” Joan said with a shake of her head, beginning to nibble on the end of one of the cookies just to have something to do with her hands. “I’m flying out to New York. City, I mean.”

“On Christmas Eve?” The man said with a furrowed brow. “No offense, but, er, I think you should’ve left, uh, earlier.” Another buzz from her phone, again from Cleo -  _ joanie!!!!!!!!  _ followed by a multitude of sad face emojis. 

“Yeah, me too,” Joan muttered, flipping her phone over on its face so that she could avoid responding. “I’ve just been too busy with work to even think of leaving.” He glanced between her phone and her face, eyes shifting and a soft smile coming on. 

“I’m er, headed to New York too,” He said as he set his book down on the counter between them. “Headed out to see, uh, some old friends.”

“I’m meeting friends too. Usually I’d spend Christmas with them, but…” She glanced down at her watch, blinking a meek 10:00. “Doesn’t seem like that’s happening.”

“Do, uh, you think they’ve got a Santa here?” He asked, grinning a grin that made her a puddly mess. “We should get a picture.”

“An airport is not the same thing as a mall,” She laughed. He shrugged, gesturing to the rows of restaurants and tiny stores close by. “Okay, okay. But malls don’t have planes.” They kept smiling at each other, like idiots, and Joan quickly ducked down to just start picking at her nail polish for something to do.

“I’m Jack, by the way,” The man stuck out his hand. “Er, well, John Kennedy. But, uh, most people call me Jack.” She took it, doing mental backflips upon feeling how warm and big his hand was.

“Joan,” She replied. “Nice to meet you. Even under these circumstances.”

“What? Er, of course I wanna, uh, spend Christmas at an airport. What’s not to like?” Jack said. “They’ve uh, got cookies.” Jack then reached over to take a cookie from her bag, a smirk on his face as she made what was probably a pretty embarrassing expression.

“So, John Kennedy? Like the president?” Joan joked, leaning on her elbow. Jack mirrored her movement teasingly, munching very seriously on his stolen cookie. 

“Yes, like the, er, president,” Jack said, smiling still. “My middle name starts with F and everything.”

“Are you a real Kennedy?” Joan gasped, widening her eyes jokingly. Jack laughed this great belly laugh and had to lean back in his chair with the force of it. Joan could feel, awkwardly, how warm her cheeks were starting to get.

“Nah, nah,” Jack shook his head. “Do you really think I’d be flying in an er, uh, commercial plane? If I were a Kennedy?” Joan shrugged, taking a chunk out of one of the cookies so that her swooning noises at his very nice arms (which had stretched out when he’d laughed) would _not_ escape her head. 

“What’s your, er, name, anyway?  _ Joan? _ Like, uh, the saint?” He asked, snatching another cookie. At this rate the bag was more his than hers - she pushed it more directly in between them for better access.

“Yeah, actually,” She said through a mouthful of cookie. “My parents are big Catholic freaks. Sorry, Kennedy. Catholics are chill.” He laughed that laugh again but now leaned more onto the table, so much so that he was practically laying on top of it. 

“Don’t, uh, worry, I’m not Catholic,” He waved her off and, after a moment of watching her so intensely she was starting to get all melty again, he leaned back in his chair. “Who’re your, uh, friends? Do you usually spend Christmas, er, with them?”

“Um, well they’re my best friends from college, Cleo and Abe, and I do usually spend Christmas with-”

“Hold on, Cleo and Abe? As in, uh, like a really annoying short, uh, Egyptian girl and her gigantic boyfriend?” Jack interrupted. Weird. After blinking a few times in confusion, Joan nodded slowly. He broke out laughing again. “Oh, shit! That’s who I’m, er, traveling to too!” 

“Seriously?” Joan asked excitedly. “That’s fucking insane!”

“This is so, uh, weird,” Jack shook his head with an affectionate smile on his face when he turned to face Joan. “Yeah, Cleo’s my, er, ex-girlfriend from high school. Turned best friend.”

“Same for me but with Abe!” Joan said, hitting the table with her hands in amazement. Both continued to laugh in shock until that got a little weird and they had to start talking again. 

“You know, I’m, uh, thinking Cleo planned this,” Jack said, shaking his head fondly as if talking to Cleo directly. 

“Planned what?”

“I dunno. Invited us both to, uh, er, set us up,” Jack said. His smile dropped immediately though as if just processing what he had said. “Er, I mean, I don’t, uh, want to assume you’re, uh, not dating someone. Just guessing because I, uh, know how Cleo gets. When she, er, wants her friends to be happy.”

“Yeah, they’re totally one of those couples who think they know everything,” Joan agreed and finally took a sip from her coffee which was totally lukewarm now. “It’s fine, I’m not...dating anyone. So you assumed correctly. I understand why you would.” Jack tilted his head like a puppy - it was  _ extremely  _ adorable and Joan tried not to let her heart shoot itself out the bottom of her shoes.

“What, er, do you mean?” Jack furrowed his eyebrows. “I, uh, wasn’t assuming because of something. You’re, er, very beautiful. And funny. So I, uh, don’t think you’re lacking in the suitor department.” Joan’s face flared up.

“Oh,” She said into her coffee, burying her face beneath her small fringe so that he wouldn’t see just how red she was now. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, confident as if he still had to push the message. “Really, you’re, uh...er, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. So.” And now Jack was back into the book, burying his own face to avoid Joan seeing how red  _ he’d  _ gotten. 

“Thank you, Jack,” Joan played with the bottom of the cookie bag after coming out of her hole. “That’s really sweet. Not a lot of guys compliment me. Specifically men I’ve only known for five minutes.”

“Er, right,” Jack said, voice muffled. Though the book was sat up slightly, it was obvious he’d just kinda shoved his face in it. 

“It’s alright,” Joan tried not to laugh as he peered his head out sheepishly. Slowly, a tentative grin spread over his face. “It’s really, really sweet.”

“I’m, uh, not very good at flirting,” Jack laughed awkwardly. “Specifically with women I’ve, er, only known for five minutes.” Joan didn’t really know what to say, other than to shove another cookie in her mouth and hold nervous, excited eye contact with Jack. Both ate the last two cookies of the bag in silence.

“How, uh, how long is our delay going to be?” Jack finally spoke, glancing down at the clunky watch on his wrist. God, he was adorable. Joan curled a hand around her lukewarm coffee cup.

“Around three hours, I think. The storm is passing NYC as we speak, so we should be clear soon,” Joan cautiously flipped back over her phone to check the time again.  _ 11:00 _ . Jesus, they’d been talking for a while. “Yeah, three hours. Hopefully.”

“Do you wanna, er, grab some dinner? With me?” Jack asked hopefully, looking at her with those eyes. “I’ll, uh, buy you some more coffee. Hotter coffee.” Joan bit her lip, glancing around their gate. The rest of the passengers were spread out and either sleeping or watching something on their phones - just a bunch of old people and businessmen. She turned back to Jack. 

“I would love to,” She said softly. Then he was out of his chair, fumbling to toss his book in his bag and grab his coat, grinning at her expectantly. And then she was also out of her chair, picking up her own bag and the cookie wrapper and her coffee cup, tossing two of the three as they walked from the gate back into the main area of the airport. He grinned at her. Slowly, anxiously, their hands found one another and wrapped together. 

And it _was_ really, really nice. Even though the tree in the airport was kinda lame and there was no Santa to take a photo with.


End file.
